


The art of letting go

by putputpotato



Series: 15 words I couldn´t say to your face [1]
Category: EXO (Band), NCT (Band), SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Healing, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Loss, M/M, Mark is dead and Taeyong a widower i´m extremely sorry, Recovery, Strangers to Lovers, Suicidal Thoughts, Survivor Guilt, Therapy, almost, best boy byun baekhyun, minseok is also dead i´m so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28570005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/putputpotato/pseuds/putputpotato
Summary: Mark dies in fall.People keep telling him that something will come his way… something that will open new doors for him. They don´t know that Taeyong sits in a room that has no doors at all.Baekhyun shows him how to build a new room.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Lee Taeyong, Mark Lee/Lee Taeyong
Series: 15 words I couldn´t say to your face [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2093358
Comments: 19
Kudos: 41





	The art of letting go

**Author's Note:**

> This story is build on the concept of getting 15 words from a random word generator and building a story from those 15 words. 
> 
> I wanted it to be a story about letting go of the ones you love, without having to forget about them <3 
> 
> I love u! Have a good(sad) time, whichever you´d like :') <3

**1) dead**

There is something strange about the difference in mourning lost things and mourning lost people. Mourning an object that is gone leaves discomfort, perhaps a lingering feeling of irritation, when, as soon as it would be needed, said object isn´t there anymore. Occasionally there is a more emotional connection to it, too. The bitterness of the feeling that that object brought with it, or a certain memory.

However, nothing matches the feeling of mourning a someone, rather than a something. Because, even when they´re gone, they are everywhere. Taeyong would know, he sees him everywhere. In Mark´s favourite mug, his empty reading chair, even in the glassy eyes of their cat Mae, who had always favoured Mark over him. He never blamed her – Mark, in all his soft-spoken words and gentle touches, deserved to be loved unconditionally everyday. 

The part of the difference, though – the one that brings pain and sticks around like cheap gum between teeth – that is the most crucial, is _what_ one loses. Taeyong never thought much about the difference, but now that he hangs up his coat, still wearing a sheen of raindrops and toes off his shoes, he comes to contemplate it again. It sinks in, just like Mark´s casket had, right in front of his eyes. His knees buckle, even when they hadn´t, as he stood there and watched shovels of dirt cover Mark´s body. They hurt, as he collides with the floor, but it´s dull and pale, in comparison to the indescribable agony that burns deep within him. 

In a place he can´t touch. A place where he can´t rip it out, as it eats away at whatever it can reach. Taeyong decides then, that he hates grief. Because, Mark would have hated to see him like this. And what Mark hates, Taeyong hates double. 

Mark also hated losing things. May it be his car-keys that Taeyong dug out from between the couch cushions, his glasses that somehow always appeared on the kitchen table, or his favourite hoodie that didn´t seem like such a priority anymore, when he saw Taeyong walking around in it, through their shared apartment. Mark hated losing things, but Taeyong thinks he would have hated losing a person way more. 

Because, when one loses an object, it´s just gone. Replaceable, even when it might have an emotional worth, too. When one loses a person, they´re not just gone. They are irreplaceable and something about them always lingers, a little like a taunt. Everything changes with their absence – the silence in an apartment, the sweat-drenched sheets after waking from a nightmare, the countless items that aren´t Taeyong´s, but they are still in his apartment, even when they don´t belong to anyone anymore. 

When one loses an object, it´s just gone. That´s where it ends, because it is inanimate and doesn´t carry memories and feelings and thoughts of its own. When one loses a person, they´re not just gone. 

They are dead. 

And so is everything that they used to bring to life.

**2) passive**

“Look, I know it´s hard for you, right now. No one can imagine what you´re facing at the moment, but… I just think it would be good for you to leave the apartment every now and then.” Johnny mutters. The silence around them is deafening and he is still wearing his shoes. Even though he brings Taeyong food, even though he checks on him every day, even though he takes care of Taeyong´s shifts, he never comes into the apartment. 

Taeyong knows why. If he didn´t live here, if he didn´t know as soon as he steps out he would want to turn around again, he wouldn´t voluntarily step into the apartment either. It´s the home of a dead man and his widower; A sad little corner of the world, where death lingers in more than one form. Taeyong has seen himself in the mirror. He knows the truth. 

His pulse might still be going, but that´s about it. 

“Maybe.” He mutters, tugging at the hem of his shirt. There is a large stain at the front and if Mark were here, he would tease him about it. He would whine and tug at Taeyong´s shirt and finally lure him into the shower with kisses that taste like early morning coffee and Mark´s favourite baked goods. 

But Mark isn´t here. So, what´s the point?

Johnny sighs, because he knows what good ‘maybe’ will do him, “I also… I looked into some stuff for you. Grief counselling and stuff like that, I thought-“ 

“No, thanks.” Taeyong interrupts. 

The last thing he needs right now is someone to validate his feelings and tell him that ‘everything is going to be alright’. Absolute bullshit. Everything was alright when Mark was there. But Mark isn´t going to come back and neither is the ‘alright’ he took with him. 

“There´s this awesome grief-group that a friend recommended to me. She said it did wonders for her and that Dr. Moon is really-“ 

“I fucking said no!” There is more heat to the voice that speaks now. Taeyong can´t tell who yelled, but Johnny is just staring at him with shock, so it must have been him after all. Of course, Johnny´s disturbed gaze makes complete sense. After having gotten used to Taeyong being a passive, walking shell, it must be almost as strange for him to watch Taeyong break out, as it is to himself. 

Taeyong was always passive about things that weren´t important. Like, when it came to choosing a movie for the night, he always ended up going with Mark´s favourites. When Mark stole his fresh portion of coffee in the morning, he made another without saying a word. Because, those were things that didn´t matter, not as much as the happiness that resulted in Mark and Taeyong. This though? Johnny encouraging him to let go of Mark, when it´s only been two weeks? This fucking matters. 

“I think you should go.” He mutters then, still a stranger to his own voice, “Thank you for the food.”

Johnny´s face falls with his shoulders and in the end, probably his hope, too. Taeyong knows he should appreciate his best friend´s care more, but right now, all he feels is betrayal. Betrayal, at the prospect of Johnny trying to push him into a life without Mark. To accept a life, without Mark. To move on and leave Mark behind. Wasn´t he Johnny´s best friend, too? Does he not care that his life will now be devoid of everything good that Mark Lee ever gave him?

When the door of the apartment closes and Taeyong knows Johnny is gone, he lets the frustration roll out. His fist aches as he slams it against the dresser that stands in their hallway over and over again, but the pain beats the nothingness that had stuffed him so full it felt like he might explode for the past days. 

So, he hits harder. Feels something inside of him vibrate and finally shatter and still hits harder. With his sight blurry, he doesn´t even notice the things that fall from the dresser, as his hits shake it. Only when one of those things meets the ground with a shattering crash, does he halt in his movements. 

His eyes find the broken remains of a picture frame and as he falls to his knees, right into the shards of glass, his soul drowns. Shaky, bloody fingers a stark contrast against the photograph that sucks up his tears, as soon as they hit the surface. With Mark´s face in the crook of his neck and the sun hitting his serene face, Taeyong almost doesn´t recognize himself. It feels a little like watching a ghost. Like both of the people in that picture died in that god forsaken plane crash. But none of that matters when all Taeyong can look at, is the grinning boy, seeking touch and comfort from the person he loves. 

Even through a photograph, a simple glimpse of reality, a dead perception of time, Mark´s eyes seem so intent on comforting him. It might be the only reason he calls an ambulance after that. 

**3) curtain**

It´s almost four in the morning. The street lights glow, orange and secretive into Taeyong´s bedroom and entertain his eyes for the time being. He doesn´t sleep. Hasn´t done so for the last three days, because he knows what he will see would be even worse, than the raging headache and the pain behind his eyes. 

Usually it´s always around that time, where he begins to wonder. No one really knows why the plane crashed, or whom might have been responsible. No one even knows how the people on the plane died. It could have been oxygen deprivation, it could have been blunt force trauma and heavy injuries, leading to blood loss, it could have been the fire that broke out, once the plane landed in a big factory. The police mentioned that, even if anyone had still been alive after the plane had met the ground, they could have never made it out of the fire. 

It´s all so vague, leading to questions. Was Mark scared before he died? Did he know it was coming? What was the last thing he thought of? Usually, after going through these questions, Taeyong tends to end up throwing up the contents of his stomach, or clawing at his chest, as he tries to fight his lungs through a panic attack. And still, he finds himself right here, on Mark´s side of the bed, with those thoughts demanding his entire mind like the dictators they are. 

He blanks, before that familiar taste of bile can crawl up his throat again, like a bad omen. As he lets his eyes wander the room once more, they catch on the curtains. Like they had taken on a life of their own, they sway and dance through the wind and if he lets his mind wander… tired and delirious, desperate and _lonely…_ maybe-

“You look exhausted.” A whimper breaks out of Taeyong´s mouth, before he can stop it. Mark´s brows furrow at the sound, as if he hadn´t expected it. His body – small and beautiful in every centimetre Taeyong has gotten to know – is clad in a large T-shirt, looking so deceivingly similar to their white curtains. He approaches Taeyong like he used to do whenever Taeyong was sick – careful and silent, intent on not leaving a single ripple in the lake of Taeyong´s peace. If only he would knew that Taeyong´s peace depended entirely on him.

“Try to sleep a little, baby.” Mark offers again.

“I can´t.” 

Mark sighs and the mattress doesn´t dip, when he sits down next to Taeyong, “You can´t keep going like this. It´ll kill you.” 

Taeyong tries not to wince at the word, “If I sleep, I´ll see it again. I´ll see you d-…” He swallows, a sob choking off the word, before he could gather the courage to speak it. 

For the slimmest moment, the world turns warm. Devoid of pain and loss and the hollowness that eats more and more, but never fills up. Mark´s fingers are warm in Taeyong´s hair and they touch him, just the way they always did. Familiar. Loving. Taeyong cries harder. 

“I promise I won´t let those dreams into your mind anymore, okay? I´ll come visit you instead. We´ll cuddle in bed the whole night.” He promises this, almost like a parent would compromise with their child. Taeyong doesn´t mind. Even while being the older one he had always liked it when Mark babied him. When he told him how good he was doing, how proud he was of Taeyong´s achievements, how much he loved him. 

“B-But you´re here now.” Taeyong protests, “Y-You can just stay now. Why visit me there, when you´re here now?” 

“Because, I´m not, baby.” Mark whispers, a sad smile adorning his lips, “I´m not here.” 

Taeyong´s eyelids flutter open to find the afternoon sun reflect off the white walls of the bedroom. The curtains dance in the wind, but Mark isn´t there to dance with them. 

**4) lack**

He hates the place, as soon as he steps foot into it. It´s a large hall, covered in parquet flooring and large windows, bleachers and sound absorbers. A local high school had apparently volunteered to provide a space for the group therapy that Dr. Moon led, but sitting in the midst of a gym hall is not what Taeyong would have expected. 

There are already a bunch of other people around, chatting softly with each other, or simply waiting in one of the seats, for the session to begin. He feels self-conscious among them. With his worn hoodie, his tired eyes and the bandages around his right hand. The doctors said only a little bit more would have been necessary to break his entire hand, but he got away with a sprain in five different places. ‘Got away’. If he really had gotten away, Taeyong wouldn´t be here. 

He would be with Mark. No matter what that means. 

To be fair, when he had texted Johnny about the group therapy info, his best friend had seemed elated. Had even offered to drive him there, but Taeyong isn´t a kindergartner and the last thing he wants right now, are even more seconds of tense silence and Johnny´s worried eyes on him. 

He knows what Johnny expects and he also knows why. It´s bad enough to bury one of your best friend, but the other the next day? Were Taeyong more selfish, it might have happened already, but the thought of what would happen to Johnny is unbearable. What he lives through right now – if it could be called ‘living’ – is nothing he would wish for anyone. Least of all, the only friend he has right now. 

Dr. Moon is instantly recognizable, may it only be, because of the classic attire Taeyong would imagine a therapist in. A pale pullover, khakis, round specks; overall inconspicuous, but purposefully approachable. He is chatting with one of the other people. One of the other _patients._ Someone else, who has lost half of their soul and now has to face moving on like that.

Taeyong ignores them both, ignores the table at the side that carries snacks, even ignores the slightly older lady who sends him a small smile and makes a beeline for one of the seats in the circle. The one closest to the door. Just in case. 

That´s where he stays, quiet and with his eyes picking apart at the structure of the parquet, until everyone has settled down. Suddenly, the urge to run away is almost unbearable. Taeyong claws at his seat, trying not to give in. Mark would want him to stay. Mark would want him to stay. Mark would want him to… 

Mark would want him to get better. But, what if this won´t get him better? What if he fails, and-

“It´s really nice to see everyone of you again.” Dr. Moon opens the round, “I realize, it´s been a while, since the last time we met, I apologize for that, but I hope you managed to make it through your days okay.” Around Taeyong, a couple of people nod their head. Others, don´t move at all, just like him. They haven´t moved on, just like him. Who knows, maybe some of them _refuse_ to move on, just like him. He wishes he could say he feels less alone. “I also want to mention that we have a new addition in our circle today. Why don´t you introduce yourself?” 

It takes him a hot second to realize that all the eyes in the room have suddenly picked him out. They shine like spotlights, waiting for him to tumble. Like an iron cord, Taeyong´s anxiety clamps around his throat and he feels how he stops breathing. He wonders what he looks like to the outside. Hopefully not how he looks from the inside. 

“Taeyong.” 

Dr. Moon nods and there is this carefully trained smile, only therapists use. They think it´s comforting, but Taeyong finds it irritating. So unclear, whether it´s sincere or not, whether it´s conscious or not, whether it has a purpose or not. It looks like a stain in their face, more than what it actually is and Taeyong wishes Dr. Moon would just wipe it off. 

“Taeyong. It´s good to have you here. Coming to a session like this takes a lot of bravery, but it´s the first step to opening new doors.” He promises. Taeyong resists the urge to tell him that he sits in a room without any doors at all. “Why don´t you tell us a bit about yourself? It can be anything, really.” 

“You want to know my favourite Hannah Montana movie?” Taeyong deadpans. 

There is silence in the room, but suddenly, a chuckle sounds a few seats to his left. Taeyong´s eyes flicker up, to find a man, not much older than him. He doesn´t look back at Taeyong, rather keeping his eyes on the large windows that showcase the trees outside. A smile lingers on his lips, though. 

Dr. Moon doesn´t laugh. But he stays patient, “I want to know what it is that made you come here.”

“What do you want me to tell you? That the world is unfair? I´m all alone now, boo-hoo.” He doesn´t mean for it to come out as icy as it does, but Dr. Moon´s words set him off in all the wrong places. Why would he make him say it out loud, when they all know perfectly well why he is here? As if this makes any difference at all. They just want to torture him. 

“Are you really?” Dr. Moon asks, head tilting just slightly in a way that has Taeyong´s blood boil. How can he be so calm and cold about this? Has he never lost anyone? “Or is that how it _feels?_ ”

Taeyong thinks of Johnny. Thinks of how he could never in a million years fill up the gaping hole Mark left in his heart. It won´t heal shut, it won´t be filled. Taeyong will forever run around with that hole; an opening for whatever wishes to enter. Mark was his shield and now? Now he has nothing. 

When he doesn´t answer for too long, Dr. Moon takes a breath and continues: “Going through the process of grieving someone takes a large toll on the mind and the heart. We get consumed by it, sometimes to a point where we might try to escape it. May that be by substance abuse, by obsessive working, over exercise, or”, he pauses, oh so meaningful on his stupid chair, with his stupid glasses and his stupid know-it-all expression, and looks down at Taeyong´s hand, “self-inflicted pain.”

From the corner of his eye, Taeyong sees a large, beefy guy tug at his shirtsleeves. He pulls them down over his wrists, giving away more than he was hiding. Taeyong clenches his healthy fist. It´s not the same. He is not like that. 

“We have to make sure that, during all those thoughts and emotions that keep our mind running day and night, we don´t forget about the people that are still around. Or worse: Try to push them away.” He is just about to continue when someone raises their hand. 

It´s the guy that had laughed at Taeyong´s terrible joke before, “To be fair, Doc, most of the time those people have never experienced losing someone… so close? They can´t possibly understand what we´re going through, so doesn´t that make feeling lonely legitimate?” 

Taeyong stares at the man, dumbstruck, but he only gives Taeyong a brief twitch of the lips, before he looks away again. Dr. Moon mulls that over for a moment, “Of course, you´re very right about that Baekhyun. In fact, no one can for sure know what you´re going through right now. Which is why, it´s very important to take on the challenge of sharing. Voicing how you feel, what you need, making your feelings and thoughts a reality, so you can make sense of what you´re dealing with.” He sends a smile around the circle, “May it be with a friend. Another relative. Even people online, through blogs and chat rooms, or right here, in the midst of a couple of people that might just know how you feel, better than anyone else.”

At the thought of telling random strangers on the internet about what he feels, Taeyong´s nose scrunches up. What a stupid thing to do. Why would they care after all? In the end, there would be his stupid thoughts, floating around a social media platform and proving to him that no one knows an answer to all the problems that keep him awake at night. 

“Now, Taeyong, if you were to choose someone to talk to about what you´re going through right now, who would that be?” Dr. Moon asks.

Taeyong stares at him then. And he tries – feels through himself, feels through his mind – and tries to come up with a different answer, than the one that sits on the tip of his tongue. Nothing. 

So, he says it anyways: “The person who died.” 

The silence that spreads across the room then is shattering. Suddenly, Taeyong wishes he hadn´t come here at all. Now he is not only making his own life miserable, but brings all those random strangers down with him, too. 

“Have you tried that, already?” Taeyong pipes up, looking at the guy, who Dr. Moon, had called ‘Baekhyun’, “Have you tried talking to them? Maybe, visit their grave?” Still, Taeyong keeps quiet, terrified eyes looking at the man. There isn´t one of those dreadful smiles on his lips – but he doesn´t need it to look gentle, “Just because they lack physical presence, doesn´t mean they don´t hear you, you know?” 

“I haven´t.” Taeyong admits and, before he can think to stop himself, he blurts out: “I was scared.” 

Dr. Moon leans forward in his chair, “What were you scared of, Taeyong?” 

He sniffs and suddenly, the dull ‘plop’ of a tear echoes in his ears, as it hits his hoodie. Ashamed, he tries to wipe his eyes dry, but it´s like trying to stop a waterfall with a dishcloth. 

_What were you scared of, Taeyong?_ Not getting an answer. Knowing the only person that ever understood him is gone and does in fact _not_ hear him. 

“I don´t know.” 

Dr. Moon nods, as if that answer made perfect sense. As if he was in on a secret, Taeyong has no idea about. It makes him angry enough to stop crying and he doesn´t think, when he bolts to his feet and turns to leave the room. He feels their eyes on his back; pitying, exasperated, all kinds of confused and he doesn´t want any of it. Neither does he want any more of Dr. Moon´s Dr. Xavier shit, so he makes sure to slam the door, once he is outside. 

He doesn´t make it far. Somehow, as soon as the door closes and there is something between himself and the therapy group, Taeyong´s limbs just give out. It´s hard to breathe and he feels dizzy, probably from the lack of sleep. Before he can risk falling and breaking something, he sits down at the steps outside of the entrance door. With his head in his hands, he watches his tears fall and turn the grey stone underneath him a shade darker. 

Should he call Johnny and ask him to pick him up? If he were to walk, would he even make it home? Somehow, his body feels like it was made of lead and no matter how hard he pushes, nothing reacts to his will. 

He becomes the stone underneath him. The stone that gravestones are made of. The stone that looms above Mark´s grave. 

Mark´s grave.

_Mark´s_ grave. 

“That was a rhetorical question, right?” He almost jumps in shock, when someone sits down beside him. Baekhyun props his chin on a hand and looks at him, “There´s only one Hannah Montana movie.” 

He is so dumbfound, there isn´t a single word Taeyong could come up with in a response. Baekhyun doesn´t seem to mind though, staring across the school grounds, as if it´s the most gorgeous view he´s ever seen. Taeyong almost can´t believe they would go to the same therapy group; Baekhyun looks so put together. None of his seams look like they are torn at the edges and his cheeks are filled with life and health. There´s that shine in his eyes that Taeyong has stopped looking for in his own. Even his hair is smooth and clean; coloured a pretty ash brown. 

“Who were they?” Baekhyun mutters, “The one you lost?” 

Taeyong gulps, but strangely enough, it´s the first question he hears today that doesn´t tip him off, “My boyfriend.” A second of silence, before he dares to ask: “You?” 

“Husband.” The word is gentle, but sounding very different from the way Taeyong had voiced his answer. There is fondness in the memory, rather than pain. Taeyong suddenly understands what it is that differentiates them. “Dr. Moon means well, you know.” 

The scoff that comes out of Taeyong is the testament of his last bit of fight, “He can mean well all he wants, I´d still like to give him a piece of my mind.” 

“Call me crazy, but I think he´d like that.” That startles a laugh out of Taeyong. He almost feels guilty for it, even though he isn´t sure why, but he sobers up quickly anyways. “I´m serious, though. He is good at what he does and he can help.” 

Eyeing the bandages around his hand, Taeyong mutters: “Maybe, but not me. I´ve heard enough of ‘it´s going to be alright’.” 

“It´s not.” Baekhyun decides and once more, Taeyong feels surprise straighten his shoulders, “It´s never going to be alright.” His eyes meet Taeyong´s, an expression in them that makes Taeyong feel like looking in a mirror, “But it gets better. It gets easier.” 

“How can you say that so certain?” 

“Because, it did for me.” The other shrugs, kicking at a little pebble, “And if I made it out of that hole, everyone can.” 

Taeyong is tempted to ask why Baekhyun would be so sure about that. But it feels like territory they´re not ready for. Strangely enough, though, he hopes that they will have a chance to get there. Talking to Baekhyun is different than talking to Johnny, or Dr. Moon. It feels less like talking for the sake of getting better, than just… talking. There is no pity in the way Baekhyun looks at him, no hesitation in how he chooses his words. He knows what Taeyong needs, because it is what he used to need, too. 

He gives himself a shove, for Mark, for himself, for his future: “Do you… want to get a coffee or something?” 

That day, he learns a lot about Baekhyun. About his small apartment and his dog. About the movies he _actually_ likes. About his inability to cook proper meals and his addiction to instant noodles. About how he used to work at an insurance company, but switched to being a songwriter, after his husband died. 

“He always told me that I was born for it and I was wasting my talent. But for as long as Minseok was there, I didn´t have the courage, I guess.” Baekhyun explains over his Latte, “After he was gone… I just wanted to make him proud. It´s what he would have wanted, I know that much. The one thing I needed to be a bit closer to him.” 

Taeyong sips on his Americano, “I think he would be really proud of you.” 

Baekhyun hums, “What do you think your boyfriend would be proud of?” 

He thinks of Mark´s smiles then, about the warmth and unconditional adoration in his eyes, whenever Taeyong had gotten to look at him in the morning. When they just woke up, on a Sunday and neither of them had to get up for work. When Mark would press sleepy morning-breath kisses onto his lips and Taeyong would soak it all up. He thinks of how Mark had never wanted for anything except Taeyong´s happiness. 

“If I moved on.” 

**5) case**

The nature of their relationship becomes a strange case. Taeyong finds being around Baekhyun easier than being alone, but it doesn´t really feel like being around someone else. Baekhyun´s presence is easy and natural and he never makes Taeyong feel the pressure that he had felt on his ribcage, ever since Mark´s death. He treats Taeyong like a normal human, not a fragile little bird with broken wings. And there is nothing Taeyong appreciates more than that. 

He wants to feel normal again, but how can he do that, when no one will treat him like that? Baekhyun doesn´t ask questions, when Taeyong dials his phone number at three a.m. and asks him about his day. He doesn´t ask questions, when Taeyong invites him for coffee in the evening. He doesn´t ask questions, when it´s clear Taeyong just needs him to be there.

The only time when he asks questions, is when Taeyong breaks. He asks what he needs and when Taeyong doesn´t know the answer that´s okay, too. He also asks questions, when it´s about something mundane – like Taeyong´s favourites, like the choice of his cat´s name, like his least favourite vegetable (just so he can make sure not to cook it into the ramen). 

He doesn´t ask questions about Mark. 

Because, he knows Taeyong will tell him about him, when he is ready. 

**6) flat**

They spend a lot of time together during the next three months. Most of the time, Baekhyun comes over to visit him, knowing that Taeyong still has trouble gathering the energy to go outside. But every now and then, they also meet outside, or at Baekhyun´s flat. This time around, Taeyong toes off his shoes at Baekhyun´s entrance door, taking in the by now familiar smell of the older. 

Baekhyun´s flat is larger than his and Mark´s, but maybe it only seems that way, because there are so little things. 

“Minseok hated hoarding things.” Baekhyun explains one time, chuckling to himself, “The less stuff we had lying around, the better. I guess that´s one of the habits I wasn´t able to shake. At least there´s more space now.” 

Taeyong smiles, taking in the different parts of the apartment. There really isn´t a lot. The bedroom is only filled with a king-size and a large closet, the kitchen only wears the bare minimum and the entrance hall only serves space for shoes and coats. The one place, where Taeyong finds signs of life and nostalgia, is the living room. It´s practically in the same room as the kitchen, since they are only separated by the kitchen counter. Along one of the walls, a large arrangement of shelves covers the surface, surrounding a TV in the middle. Facing it, stands a comfortable looking, pale-purple couch. Mongryong doesn´t hesitate to waggle his tail and climb on top of it. 

As Taeyong trails his fingertips along the shelves and takes in the photos and little goodies that line them, he feels Baekhyun´s eyes on him. It must feel personal, to let Taeyong in so far, but he doesn´t make a move to stop him. There are a lot of pictures of Baekhyun with different people; Some that look like his family, sharing the same features and some that are obviously school-time friends. He laughs at one that shows Baekhyun´s younger self with a drinking hat and a ridiculous pair of sunglasses, sporting a peace sign in the middle of someone´s lawn. 

“Party animal?” 

Baekhyun snorted, “You know how there´s always this one dickhead that goes ‘I don´t go to parties, I am the party’? That was me.” 

Taeyong laughs a little harder at that and gives teenage-Baekhyun a little pat on the head with a fingertip. Then, he slows down, smile weakening at the next picture he finds. It doesn´t take much to understand. That adoring expression, looking right beyond the camera at, who undoubtedly has to be Baekhyun himself; it´s familiar in Mark´s eyes. 

“He was gorgeous.” Taeyong whispers. 

Baekhyun steps up to him, his chin propping on Taeyong´s shoulder, “You have no idea.” 

Taeyong doesn´t know what to say after that, but Baekhyun also doesn´t give him the feeling that he has to say anything anyways. Instead, he turns around and wraps his arms around Baekhyun´s waist. He pulls the older in, until they´re chest to chest and Baekhyun lifts his own arms to wrap around Taeyong, too. They are strong and hold on tight, feeling warm and secure. Everything Taeyong has learned to crave from him in the last couple of months. 

Though, as Taeyong closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, he gets scared, because there is something going on in him that isn´t supposed to happen. Not yet, not ever. Not when Mark–

Not when Mark what? Mark is gone. 

But if he isn´t? If he is still watching? Wouldn´t he get so, so upset to see Taeyong move on so easily? He can´t do that, it´s not fair, Mark deserves better. Mark, his sunshine, his every reason for every breath, deserves to be remembered forever and Taeyong´s loyalty should be his. Taeyong isn´t a cheater, he isn´t going to betray his lover like this. 

So, gentle, yet insistent, he pushes himself out of Baekhyun´s embrace and offers to make them coffee. 

**7) Include**

“I´ve heard you´re going to the group therapy again.” Johnny remarks over the rim of his tea cup. 

Taeyong lets his fingertips travel the rim of his own. He watches the steam swirl through the air for a while, before he answers: “Yeah.”

It´s the first time since four months that they meet up somewhere that isn´t Taeyong´s apartment. It´s also the first time they meet up, because Taeyong reached out, not the other way around. Johnny, although careful, had agreed right away and, even when it´s tiring to see his friend look at him like a cancer patient, he is happy to see him. This is one of the handful of things Taeyong would agree on with Dr. Moon: He should appreciate his friends. 

Texting Johnny and offering to hang out had been the first step for him to do so. He hopes Johnny knows what that means. Hopes Johnny doesn´t underestimate the strength it takes Taeyong still, to get out of bed every day. 

Sometimes, when he wakes up, his mind will play tricks on him. It tells him there´s someone there, pressed against his back. Someone that might be Mark, if he is lucky. Often times, he keeps his eyes shut tight and holds onto the sensation, until he can´t take the temptation anymore. Then, he turns around and finds the blankets, bunched against him tight, because he had kicked them off, during a cold sweat in the middle of the night. 

It hurts every time. But it surprises him less and less. That´s some sort of progress, right? 

“I´m sorry I was… the way I was”, He mutters, eyes still downcast, “during the last months.” 

Johnny takes a deep breath, “You don´t have to apologize. I know what you´re going through, I´m not mad.” 

_You have no fucking idea what I´m going through._ Taeyong releases the thought only in a breath. There is no use in starting a fight over this. Johnny means comfort and Taeyong wants to appreciate it. 

“Does this mean…” Johnny awkwardly gestures around himself, “Does this mean you´re like- moving on?” 

Around him, the air becomes cold and suffocating. Taeyong can feel himself begin to shake, in the midst of the crowd that also occupies the little café. Every fibre of his being hates sitting here. Hates thinking about an answer to that question. Hates the expectation on Johnny´s face. No matter what his answer turns out to be, it´s going to suck ass. 

Yes he is moving on – but that´s a lie and when Johnny finds out, he will be disappointed. No, he is not moving on – more of the truth, but not all of it and still, Johnny would be disappointed. Is he moving on? Has he begun doing that? How would he even be able to tell? What does it feel like? Is this the point where he pulls himself together and finally gets back to his old life? Is this the moment where he shuffles his life around, like Baekhyun had, to begin anew? 

His eyes burn and Johnny must hear the storm in his voice, but he doesn´t dig further: “How´s work?” 

**8) reliance**

“Do you like him?” Mark grins. Taeyong would almost guess he looks excited. 

From where he lays on his bed, he looks up at Mark´s gorgeous face. He wants to reach out, touch it, _feel_ it, know that Mark is there. But like he said in the past: He isn´t. Taeyong inhales deeply, concentrating so he can smell Mark´s scent: their rose-detergent, but also traces of cocoa and a bit of cinnamon. 

At least, that´s how Taeyong remembers it. Sometimes he is scared it might have not been like that at all, and he is starting to forget. 

“I´m not sure.” Taeyong whispers, even though he knows the truth. 

The younger gives him that cheeky smile, he always had, when he had surprises prepared for Taeyong. Something he loved to do, just to see Taeyong´s reaction. Dinner with candles sometimes, or a box of self-made cookies, or rose petals over their bed sheets that led to nights full of closeness. 

It´s the kind of smile that told Taeyong Mark was in on a secret he didn´t know about, “Well, I think you can rely on your gut. It has always told you the right thing.”

**9) kettle**

The kettle screeches through Baekhyun´s kitchen and Taeyong moves to pour them both a cup of tea; Jasmine for him, earl grey for Baekhyun. He already knows exactly how Baekhyun likes his tea; A drop of milk, one sugar, but without stirring. Taeyong never thought there could be so much thought, going into how to make tea. Then again, he has learned that Baekhyun is a thoughtful person in general. 

They talk about many thoughts and Baekhyun inspires him to question himself more, too. Dr. Moon does, as well, which is funny, because Taeyong is finally starting to get along with him. There is a new guy in the group, called Jongin, who apparently lost his sister and, even if Taeyong sympathizes with him, it feels good to not be the chick of the family anymore. 

Carrying his tea over to Baekhyun, Taeyong sits down on the couch. It´s almost a reflex at this point, to push a little closer than necessary. They have made it a habit – always touching in someway, without even being aware of it. Sometimes, Taeyong notices and there is that certain guilt eating away at him. It´s enough on some days, to cause him to flee the apartment entirely, but on other days, there is no resistance left in him, to not let it happen. 

Right now, Baekhyun´s chest is sturdy and warm and Taeyong gives into the instinct of hiding there. It´s even easier, when Baekhyun lets him. Welcomes him, even. 

His hand in Taeyong´s hair is grounding and familiar in a way that shocks Taeyong. How can it already feel like it has been there forever, like it was supposed to be there all the time, when just half a year ago, Mark Lee had lived in his apartment, kissed him good morning and portrayed Taeyong´s entire future? Taeyong feels itchy. Instead of pulling away though, he pushes further into Baekhyun´s embrace. 

“I thought we could watch the second part of Maze Runner today.” Baekhyun proposes, “It´s not as good as the first one, but since there is such a cliff hanger on the first one… you will never guess where the story is going.”

Taeyong laughs, “Sounds good. I was going to either suggest that, or ‘The Greatest Showman’.” 

As Baekhyun´s head falls back with laughter, Taeyong feels normal, for the first time since six months, “We literally watched that movie 23 times since the day we met. How can you not be sick of it yet?”

“It´s a good movie. The vocals are sick and Hugh Jackman is the coolest guy on the planet.” Stretching his tongue out at Baekhyun, he moves to get up and insert the DVD in Baekhyun´s player, “Besides, you give in every time, so you can´t be sick of it, either.” 

“Maybe, you´re just too irresistible and I can´t refuse you anything.” Baekhyun flirts and Taeyong feels his cheeks grow warm. 

He wonders if that´s true. Wonders if Baekhyun would be willing to do as much for him as Taeyong knows he is willing to do for Baekhyun. Wonders if he gets irrationally nervous around Taeyong sometimes. May it be because of something he said, of the way he smells, or how close he seems to be, all of a sudden. 

He also wonders if Baekhyun feels the guilt, too. If a part of him knows he is betraying Minseok, by flirting with Taeyong, by holding Taeyong, by doing so much for Taeyong, he wouldn´t even know where to start counting. 

When Taeyong returns to the couch, Baekhyun´s arms are already open. 

“Can I ask you something private?” They are already half an hour into the movie, when the words finally make it out of Taeyong´s mouth. 

Baekhyun gives him a look and says: “Of course.” 

“How did you know you were moving on?” 

He is met with brief silence and after a while, Baekhyun leans forward to grab the remote and pause the movie. Taeyong feels strangely embarrassed, as suddenly, Baekhyun´s entire attention is on him. Yet again, he is grateful all the same. 

“I didn´t, while it was happening.” Baekhyun admits, “Only when I already had, did I notice. Even though it took me an awfully long time, considering I had promised Minseok to move on, while he was dying.” 

“You never told me how he died.” Taeyong mutters, hand reaching out to take a hold of Baekhyun´s hand. 

“Cancer. Fought it for almost a year, too. After he was gone, I… I didn´t feel like moving on, or trying to right everything again. I just wanted to be with him. It was hard to resist the temptation of just…” The hesitation in his words is like heavy lead in their shared air, “leaving.” He fights a tiny smile on his lips then, tortured, but still sincere. The kind Taeyong knows is not easy for him to show to just anyone. It´s only for those that are close to him. Only for Taeyong. “When he was on his dying bed, he made me promise. To move on.” 

Mulling that over, Taeyong asks: “Did you want to?” 

“God, no.” Baekhyun laughs, a soft and adoring sound, stark contrast to the hurt Taeyong sees in his eyes, “It felt like leaving him behind. Like forgetting Minseok ever existed. But I realized that, it´s not what moving on means at all and I also realized that he wouldn´t have wanted me to live my life, tortured by his memory.” He sighs, eyes trailing back to a place and time, Taeyong has no way of reaching, “’Let me be a happy thought, nothing else’. That´s what he said. I didn´t understand what the fuck that was supposed to mean, because he was going to be so much more than that, right?” 

Shuffling to look a little better at Baekhyun´s face, Taeyong nods, “Turns out, he didn´t have to be. Being a happy thought was all I needed and so much more than I thought it would be, too.” 

“So, you know for sure now, that you´ve moved on?” Taeyong wonders. 

Baekhyun´s hand is hesitant for the first time, but it settles against Taeyong´s cheek nonetheless, “I must have.” 

He just wants to know, when Taeyong´s own emotions haven´t made sense to him in an eternity, “How can you know?” 

“There are certain things that can´t happen, if you don´t move on. Certain things you´ll forbid yourself one way or another.” Baekhyun´s voice is so soft, if it weren´t so quiet around them, Taeyong knows he wouldn´t have heard him, “But I don´t have that problem anymore.” 

“Things? Like what?” 

No answer. Baekhyun´s eyes take him in and even though he looks like there are a million words on his tongue, he doesn´t say a single one. His thumb slides over Taeyong´s cheekbone, just like his eyes make a path over his every feature. They get stuck on his mouth and Taeyong only realizes what is about to happen, when Baekhyun´s breath hits his tongue. 

It´s a careful, innocent kiss, but Baekhyun is intent with the pressure he uses. He stays frozen like that, awaiting some kind of reaction. Maybe he thinks Taeyong would shove him off and yell at him. Truth be told, Taeyong might have done that at some point. 

Instead, he kisses back. 

His eyes fall shut and he follows the urge to tug Baekhyun closer by the waist. Their position is a little inconvenient, but that´s not enough to stop Baekhyun from hunting for more. He deepens the kiss, as soon as Taeyong lets him, drenching him in the warm sensation of his tongue rubbing against the roof of Taeyong´s mouth. Tasting like Earl grey and Mint. Mark always tasted like something sweet, because there would always be a treat in his vicinity. 

With a gasp, Taeyong shoves Baekhyun away. His lungs feel wrinkled and useless, like raisins and when he looks up at the other man, for the briefest moment, Mark Lee looks back at him. 

“I´m sorry.” He squeezes out. Who it is, he apologizes to, he has no idea, “I´m sorry, I can´t.” 

Like so many times, since Mark´s death, Taeyong runs away.

**10) sting**

A heartache is not unfamiliar to Taeyong at all, but this is something he has never experienced before. The hollow realization of having nothing and no one at all. 

It feels so different from when he had lost Mark. Back then, the hurt he felt was dull and ever present, so long that, after some time, he didn´t even realize it was there anymore. It wasn´t even hurt in the usual sense. The loss he felt wasn´t just inside of himself, it was all around him. In every breath of air, every empty room, every quiet tick of the clock. 

This pain though – this loss – is like a sting. It haunts his insides, growing and growing, to a point where Taeyong fears there won´t be enough space in his body. Not ever-present, but whenever he remembers Baekhyun´s eyes after he had shoved him away, it sets in again. And occasionally, it goes beyond an emotional kind of hurt. He feels his _body_ hurt, as it threatens to burst. 

There are too many things he wants. He wants Mark. He wants peace. He wants everything to stop, no matter what that means. 

But most of all, he just wants Baekhyun. What drives him insane about that, is the fact that that might just be the easiest part for him to get. With blurry eyes, he looks at his phone, reading over Baekhyun´s last messages for the 50th time that night. 

**Baekhyun <3:** Taeyong, I´m so sorry

**Baekhyun <3:** I shouldn´t have done this, I realize you weren´t ready for something like that

**Baekhyun <3:** Please call me back, I´m scared to leave you alone like this

**Baekhyun <3:** Taeyong please, I´m sorry

The last message comes at almost three a.m:

**Baekhyun <3:** I´m still here with you

At three a.m., when the sting is especially bad, he almost calls an ambulance. Then, he wonders what he would tell them. Suffering from a heartache? 

Taeyong goes to sleep. 

**11) gift**

Mark is buried on a hill. Taeyong had chosen it among the graveyard, because the sun shines on the spot, almost the entire day and Mark used to love sunlight. Whenever winter came around, he would get moody and whine for more sunlight and Taeyong would laugh at him, kiss him and tell him that he was _his_ sunshine. 

Behind Mark´s grave, looming over him, like an umbrella, is a tree. An oak, as the graveyard gardener had informed him. Apparently it´s already been there for a couple of decades and Taeyong is grateful Mark would have such an experienced companion to look over him. 

It´s warm, for the first time in a couple of months and Taeyong finds the liberty in showing up in a fine shirt. He wants to look good, when he meets Mark. Wants to look like the gentleman he promised to be, when he asked Mark out for the first time. 

“If you pull out my chair and kiss me good bye like that, you already have me wrapped around your finger.” Mark had giggled against Taeyong´s lips, as they stood in front of Mark´s apartment door. Taeyong didn´t want to let him go that night, or ever again. 

He doesn´t care about his slacks, when he sits down on the ground, right at the foot of Mark´s grave. His eyes close briefly, ears taking in the rustling of the leaves and when he opens them again, Mark is right there, sitting in front of him. It looks bizarre, to see him lean against that gravestone, where his name has been etched into the surface. Taeyong ignores it and concentrates on his lover´s smile. Gentle like the warm breeze that strokes Taeyong´s cheek. 

A ghost. A ghost of Taeyong´s memory. But maybe, just maybe, a part of him is actually here, to listen. Just like Baekhyun said. 

“Hey Markie.” He whispers. Mark doesn´t answer, only smiles back. But Taeyong knows he is listening. “I m-miss you.” 

Just these words are enough to break him and he knows, it´s because of their weight. They constantly sit on Taeyong´s heart, like a mountain of bricks and he wishes he could shove them all off. At least, when Baekhyun was with him, he didn´t have to shoulder them on his own. As if he had read his thoughts, Mark´s smile grows even warmer. Taeyong looks down, shame shaking his bones. 

“I thought I should come visit and, uh…” He sniffs, “just like, let you know I´m still thinking of you.” 

“I know that.” Mark finally answers, “And I know without a doubt you always will.”

It´s that sentence that gives Taeyong the chance to say what he came for: “I met someone. And I like him.” 

“I know.” Scrunching his nose with a smirk, Mark adds: “He´s super handsome.” 

A wet laugh breaks out of Taeyong´s chest, but it dies down like a desperate little flame in a tornado, “It´s not gonna work.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because, if I´m with him that means… that means I´m betraying you.” Taeyong mutters. 

Mark sighs, but his patience keeps the small smile in tact, “You´re not betraying me Tae. You´re moving on.” 

“It´s the same.” 

“No it´s not.” This time, Mark´s voice is stern – insistent, “There is nothing about me you can hold onto anymore Taeyong. No matter how long you wait, no matter how many opportunities you turn down, I´m gone.” In the past months, Mark has said those two words more often than Taeyong could count, but for the first time he really realizes what they mean. “I never, ever wanted to be a ghost to you. Haunting your nights, keeping you awake, scaring you from your life, that´s never what I wanted. Don´t let me become that.” 

Weakly, Taeyong tries to protest: “That´s not what you are.” 

“You know it is. You see it when you look in the mirror.” Mark says, not unkind, “It´s okay to miss me Tae. It´s okay to remember me. But, it´s also okay to forget me. It´s okay to open your heart to someone else.” 

“I can´t. Not without you.” His own voice has turned pleading. He sounds like a child, begging and he doesn´t even know for what anymore. 

“You will never be without me, Tae.” Mark reminds him, “Whenever you need me, I´ll be there. But I want to be comfort to you, not an escape.” The words send another wave of shame over Taeyong´s shrunken frame. For entirely different reasons, this time. “What you have with Baekhyun – something so real and new and filled with… love, someone who understands and adores you like this – it´s a gift. A blessing that not everyone has.” 

Mark´s hand reaches out. Taeyong knows it´s a breeze from the wind, but he lets his heart imagine it were Mark´s fingers, nudging at his chin, so Taeyong would meet his eye, “I´m begging you Tae. Don´t let the future pass you by, because of the past.” 

**12) season**

Spring always used to be Mark´s favourite season. It just so happens to be Baekhyun´s, too. Maybe, after a while, it could become Taeyong´s as well. 

Mark and Baekhyun both love the cherry blossoms that bloom in the parks that surround their area during spring. They both love how their days become longer again and they begin to see more of the sun. They love the smell of it in the air, something distinct, yet indescribable. 

It´s why Taeyong asks Baekhyun to meet him at their favourite park, two days later. He hasn´t said anything to the older, but Baekhyun had respected his need for distance. That´s over now. If it were Taeyong´s decision, he would never let even a breath between them again. 

As he watches Baekhyun wander down the path between the cherry trees and the stones on Taeyong´s heart turn into feathers, Taeyong knows Mark was right. This is a gift. And he can´t let it slip away. 

“I´m so glad you called, I-“ 

It´s not his fault really, when Baekhyun´s lips glisten with chap stick and he looks so soft in his pastel attire. Taeyong has to kiss him, even before he ends the sentence. The older lets him, but there is hesitation in the way he reciprocates. He is scared. Scared of hurting Taeyong, like he had done two days ago. Taeyong wants to take that fear from him, to show him the new door they carved into Taeyong´s room without doors. 

“Hey.” He mutters with a smile, “Come sit with me?” 

Nodding, Baekhyun lets himself be pulled onto the picnic blanket Taeyong brought along. He is nervous, but also excited. There is room for so much to anticipate and, knowing Baekhyun wants this, too, lifts a certain weight off his shoulders. He reaches for Baekhyun´s hands and pulls them into his lap. Still, the older doesn´t do anything, except watch him through those deep eyes that Taeyong feels himself fall into. 

“I´m sorry I ran out on you like that.” He knows Baekhyun wants to protest, but Taeyong continues, before he can get a word in: “I guess I just needed a bit of time to think. You… When Mark… died, I didn´t see any future that was worth chasing. I had dreams and goals, but they suddenly seemed so meaningless without him by my side.

“Then I met you. Someone who understood me and listened. Someone who showed me that I didn´t need a door to open for me, but I could just build myself an entirely new world. At first, you were company to me – strength. Now…” He gulps, “Now you´re just so much more than that. Which scared, me because, in my mind I was never going to love anyone else after Mark. Allowing my feelings for you to… to grow, felt like betraying him, in a way. Like I was letting him down.” 

“I know.” Baekhyun whispers.

Taeyong is sure, he does, “But I realized that… that you´re the best thing that could have happened to me. More than I could have hoped for. And I also realized that Mark wouldn´t… have wanted to be the reason, I refused the gift that I was given.” 

“Tae…” If Taeyong were to try and count all the emotions in Baekhyun´s eyes, he would have sat there for hours. 

“He would have liked you a lot.” His heart bursts into wild flames, defeating the stones on top of it and suddenly, with the knowledge that his words are true, he defeats the grief in his chest, “And I know if there was anyone he would have wanted me to be with, it´s you.” 

They have known each other for months now, they have taken group therapy together, but this is the first time Taeyong sees Baekhyun cry. He doesn´t even really seem to notice at first, because he jolts, when the first of his tears detaches from his chin. Taeyong opens his arms then – opens his heart – like Baekhyun has done for him, for such a long time now. Baekhyun doesn´t hesitate this time, he falls into Taeyong´s arms and they open the door they have built together. 

What Taeyong finds behind it, has him think that maybe, even after losing Mark, there is a life worth living. 

**13) tree**

They grow together like a tree. They share interests, go out on dates, collect memories, like branches that grow into the sky. They exchange words, soft and sweet, teasing and fun, raw and honest, like the leaves that grow at the tips. They strengthen their bond, their trust, by persisting through the challenges that life throws their way and, even when the storms are wild and the air is cold, their stem remains sturdy. 

They grow roots, deep into each other´s life, too. One root for the times they hold each other, when they breakdown. One root for the first time they make love, so tender and gentle, they might as well be teenagers. One root for the first time Taeyong says his three words and Baekhyun feels no need to hesitate and says them back. And so many more roots, for every single day they learn something more about each other. 

Sometimes, Taeyong basks in the light of the sun, right under that tree. Mark joins him and that´s okay. Taeyong says it every time: ‘I miss you’ and it´s always true, but it hurts a little less with every new day. Every new day he wakes up to Baekhyun´s smile and the kisses he presses into Taeyong´s neck. 

Baekhyun´s and Taeyong´s tree grows and fills up the holes Mark left in Taeyong´s heart.

Meanwhile, Mark becomes the sky. 

**14) dialect**

For a long time Taeyong had lived with the belief that there was only going to be one real love throughout his whole life. Of course, there was never a doubt that it was going to be Mark. 

Now, after a year, he understands that love is a lot more complicated than that. It doesn´t speak in one language, it speaks in many. Every person, speaking a different dialect of love and, while Taeyong never lost his love for Mark, he also learns that what he feels for Baekhyun is love, too. A different one, but still the same. 

Mark still has the part of Taeyong´s heart that has always belonged to him. But Baekhyun has discovered a different part of it and made it his own, too. Taeyong doesn´t feel torn. He feels filled. Complete. 

**15) cart**

The last time he ever sees Mark is in the middle of a supermarket. Baekhyun is next to him, looking for the rose detergent Taeyong insists on still using. By now, Baekhyun´s clothes smell like that, too. In the evening, with a little box and a key in it, Taeyong will ask him to move in with him. Johnny says they practically live together already, so might as well. 

Taeyong´s eyes flicker to the windows at the front of the supermarket, just as Baekhyun drops the detergent in their cart. He just stands there; Jeans and Taeyong´s T-shirt on his little frame. Even in the dull, white light of the approaching winter, he seems to shine. Taeyong´s sun.

He looks so proud. And when he waves at Taeyong, still wearing that content, proud smile, Taeyong knows this is a goodbye. Instead of trying to stop Mark, to beg him to come back, like he would have done a year ago, he smiles back. 

He lets go. 

“Taeyong?” Watching Mark walk away for a couple of seconds longer, Taeyong finally turns to look at Baekhyun, “You okay?” 

A smile tugs at Taeyong´s lips and he nods, before leaning in for a kiss, “I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/putputpotato) | [Ig](https://https://www.instagram.com/putputpotato_xo) | [Tumblr](https://midnight-writ3r.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I want to mention that I was lucky enough to have never lost a person very close to me, so I apologize deeply if there is something that offends anyone who has ever gone through such a thing. If it does, please let me know and I´ll make sure to adjust the story or remove it entirely. <3 
> 
> While writing this, I thought of my grand aunt a lot. Even when we didn´t get along well, she was still my family. This christmas, my grandmother died as well and, although I have never gotten to meet her, I can´t help but mourn what could have been, if I did get to meet her. My father suffered a lot, though and I tried my best to be with him <3 
> 
> Another big reference was the book 'How to make friends with the dark' by Kathleen Glasgow. If you haven´t already and you like reading heart-wrenching and raw stories, I definitely recommend it <3 (nothing for weak hearts tho!)
> 
> All rambling aside, I hope you liked this story in a way <3 I cried a lot while writing it, but it helped me to let go of some of my own sorrow, so I´m glad I wrote it! :'D 
> 
> I love u so much, thank you for reading my story! Take good care <3


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